Nothing's Perfect
by Mademoiselle Anime Amour
Summary: Josh Ellison (aka Ghostface) is at it again, his inner thirst to make bullies suffer getting the best of him. One of these would-be victims decides to fight back. Josh's girlfriend Bianca Holland is concerned that this time, he will be the killed rather than the killer. M for language.


**A/N: Hello, everyone, hope you had a good Easter weekend a week ago. Anyway, this is a follow-up one-shot that I wrote last year and was meant to be the follow-up to Clarity, my Scream fandom story. And it's just as dark as that one-shot. Hope you enjoy it.**

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**Nothing's Perfect**

"You do realize that our school will pretty much never forgive you for what you're doing right?" Hilary Moss, Bianca Holland's best friend and oft voice of reason, teased light-heartedly. "I mean, you're dating a rival."

"Oh please," Bianca said complacently into her cellphone, settling herself further down on her fluffy pillows. "Josh isn't even in sports. He was never the athletic type. Makes you wonder why…why the hell the Woodsboro kids are pushing him around more than ever. He just ignores them but…it's only a matter of time."

Actually, this was becoming a great concern to Bianca, whose boyfriend bizarrely was the fresh new Ghostface dividing his time between Lincoln and Woodsboro, his past and his present. By day, he was Josh Ellison, a sensitive yet twisted adolescent boy in love with her.

In recent weeks, at Lincoln High, Bianca took an even worse beating to her reputation by dating a "creep" by the senior class' standards. Only Hilary supported her best friend's dating decision one hundred percent. As for Josh, he was threatened with actual beatings by the big, bad Woodsboro jocks.

"And some stoners," he had mentioned to her in a patronizing tone one day. "But, they're usually too high to follow through on their threats. These are the guys who think it's Tuesday when it's really Wednesday. Complete idiots, if you ask me."

At night, Josh tended to strike as Ghostface but rarely so these days. Bianca, with her open arms to him, had helped to chase some of his dark, lethal thoughts away. He was less wont to kill, but that didn't mean he'd stopped entirely.

He'd murmured, "Let's face it, I learned from the best. The original Ghostface was crazy enough to help me out," as he drove her around in his pickup on a Saturday afternoon.

Bianca's eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement. "How'd you know him?"

"My older brother knew him." Josh shrugged. "Oh yeah, didn't tell you about him"—upon the bewildered look on her face—"Lucky bastard ended up living in Woodsboro with a better foster family than mine. Least his didn't beat the shit out of him every chance they got."

He was very blunt about his sentiments toward his second and last foster family, entailing snidely regarding his hatred for them. Other than implying abuse, though, he never breathed a word about them.

"How'd your brother know him?"

"Oh, they were real pals. Toby actually sold weed to Billy a couple of times. Drug connect, see. Oh yeah, big bro gets spoiled as all get-out, and how does he repay them? By becoming a drug dealer. That's why I never talk to Tobe any more. I've never understood this drug thing that all the kids go wild over."

Josh went on to say that he got to know Billy better when he was fourteen, craving for lessons on how to be a killer. How to take revenge on people he'd despised since middle school, the ones who would stuff him in trash cans and knock him over on a regular basis.

Bianca remembered how his light blue eyes had darkened the further in-depth he went with his story. "That was my evolution from victim to fighter. I'd started fighting with a switchblade in broad daylight. Not during school hours, of course. Columbine and all that? I'd be in serious shit. No, Billy taught me how to kill. Out in the woods, we'd meet up every weekend. He brought beers, usually. I had two once but"—here, he wrinkled his nose in distaste—"Never drinking that again. Found out later I was allergic…Funny, eh?"

Even if he couldn't drink if he'd wanted to, she nonetheless admired him for being what she deemed to be the ultimate nonconformist. He always had something to say with regard to teen social commentary. The way he'd voice whatever was on his mind, it was as though he was an outsider looking in on the rest of his peers. He was clever, more intelligent than his years (or his list of victims) suggested.

This was why now, Bianca worried that at some point the Woodsboro bullies would severely injure Josh. For dating a Lincoln girl, he was being punished more harshly, being thrust into more after-school fights. She felt a wave of compassion for him, for he'd been tormented nearly his entire life.

"I'm worried, Hil," she confessed, unconsciously biting her lip. "They're being total jerks to him and…Do you think they would kill him?"

It might have seemed like a strange bordering on paranoid question, but she figured that it was a realistic possibility. After all, the town itself had a reputation of producing killers before…Besides that, she couldn't help but have this niggling suspicion that the Woodsboro kids believed that Josh had blood on his hands. In fact, he told her a week ago that he'd claimed his seventh victim, a junior girl by the name of Holly Jones. She kept ruthlessly attacking another girl, Maura Lingenholt, a resident "emo" at the school. One night, Josh thought that he had to do young Maura a favor by stabbing her tormentor in the back alley by the 7-11.

"I was tired of seeing her get picked on. She was a freshman for God's sakes. She's in sociology with me. She's really not bad." Josh had passionately pleaded his case.

Good intentions but crazed ways to follow through on them. And now, most of the Woodsboro student population rallied against him.

After the awkward pause, Hilary replied, "Actually, maybe. Kids are downright cruel these days. But, Josh is a big boy. He can fend for himself."

"You think so?" Bianca sensed her knuckles turning white with the desperate grip on her cellphone.

"I know so, Bianca. He's in good shape, so he'd have the strength to take them."

Abruptly, a blinking icon on her cellphone screen indicated that she was receiving another call.

From Josh.

"Josh wants to talk now. I'll talk to you later, OK?"

"OK, just don't worry too much," Hilary advised before ending the call.

Too late for that. A plummeting feeling in her stomach was the only premonition she needed to know that something was wrong. He would call her every other day, sure, but not at 9:30 at night.

Why'd her mom have to be a lawyer again? Otherwise, it would be real helpful if she was here. Just for consolation, really.

"Josh?"

"Yeah, B." Did he sound urgent? "I'm booking it at 60 right now, so I can't talk for a whole lot. Driving and on the phone…I'm actually typical for once."

She chuckled nervously. "No kidding. What's up?"

"Serial killer withdrawals," Josh remarked dryly, though his voice didn't lose its tenseness. "You ever heard of Nate Ponser?"

"Hmm…" She racked her brains to try remembering. "Hasn't he been arrested a couple of times?"

"Sharp as a tack as usual, B. A weed bust and damage to public property charge. I really can't expect much out of a hard-faced stoner. A hard-faced stoner who's six-foot five."

Josh was about 6'1", so she supposed that he might have been somewhat concerned over his personal safety.

"Anyway," he pressed on. "He's been after my blood for a while now, and I…sort of, kind of was after his tonight. But, damn, the kid's got sharp ears. I went to sneak up on him when, next thing I knew, he had me in a chokehold. Needless to say, he is pissed _off_. He's behind me in his piece of crap Tahoe right now."

Stiffening from shock, Bianca was at a loss for words, her heart rate quickening. Never had a would-be victim of his remotely attempted to fight back. Now that it was happening, she gulped anxiously. Sure, before her relationship with Josh, she'd tried fighting back, too. But, it had been out of self-defense. This guy had it in for him, judging by how he was probably relentlessly speeding right behind Josh's Ford Ranger.

Masking the quaver in her voice, she remarked, "Sounds like this guy is insane. Shouldn't he have been satisfied that you ran off?"

He scoffed bitterly, "You'd think. But, this is a guy set on revenge. It was my mistake for fucking with him to begin with. He's the big man on campus, or so he thinks. Anyway, I'm headed toward your place. I hope I lose him by then."

"You better!" She was close to shouting because she didn't want a nutjob in her house…again. "I mean, can you imagine if he—?"

"I'd prefer not to," Josh countered tersely. "If worse comes to worst, just be on your guard. If he hurts you…"

"Be safe," she murmured before abruptly ending the call on him.

Her hand limp, she let go of the cellphone, her green eyes glazing over as she tried to block out all her fearful thoughts. This Ponser jerk (fiend, lowlife, etc.) surely wouldn't kill Josh. Would he? He wouldn't be demented enough to carry a gun, would he? Or a knife. Or even a crowbar along with any other blunt object.

Obviously, with this on her plate, she couldn't focus on the bright TV in front of her. So much for enjoying what remained of her senior year. She'd probably have to worry until the day she walked with diploma in hand. Worry for her life, worry for his…It was all too much to take. Couldn't she take pleasure in being eighteen? Could she be content at all?

With a half-hearted shrug, Bianca turned off MTV, which aired a lousy rerun of _Jersey Shore _anyway. Orange people, what productive qualities could they possibly contribute to society? If Josh was here on his own volition, he would provide plenty of insight on that subject. Although he was indeed physically attractive, she also admired him for his brain. He believed his IQ was 120, at least.

She loved his intelligence equally as much as his eyes.

"I swear you do this to me on purpose, Josh," she murmured as though the object of her anxiety sat right next to her.

Even if he was here, she would tell him that…How could he let…?

She would never understand his serial killing, would never try to. As much as she sometimes wanted him to stop, to change, she couldn't be unrealistic. But, this situation did involve taking lives, hiding, and the possibility of a life sentence (or the death penalty…) if he got caught.

Just as Bianca was about to inadvertently doze off, she heard the obnoxious sound of squealing tires that put her on the alert at once.

Now, she wondered who would be at her door. Her boyfriend or Ponser.

Barely thirty seconds later, there was frantic knocking at her door. If this was indeed Josh, this slightly unnerved her. He never acted like that in all the two years she'd known him as the cool, collected Ghostface. Actions such as these were not subtle, un-Josh-like.

Without a second thought, she impulsively raced down the stairs to open the front door for him.

He just stood there, hands on almost buckling knees, and panting heavily. He wore his customary Ghostface attire with his face concealed by that haunting mask. Unfortunately, this meant that she couldn't see his expression. Because if she had, she might have seen just how dire the situation was on his face.

"Come in," Bianca ordered, nervous that Ponser was on his heels.

Josh shook his head vigorously. "No. I'm staying on the porch…hold him off…if he comes…"

"Like hell you are! Come inside _now_!"

"B, it's for your safety," he growled in a tone that implied he wasn't willing to put up with any nonsense or debate.

She could hardly believe it since she swore he'd figured that he would lose the enraged druggie at this point. Judging from his pressing urgency, though, that hadn't been the case.

Nonetheless, she firmly shook her head. "No. I won't let you. How did he—?"

"I was going fucking 70, and he still kept up with me! Don't piss me off, B. I…Just stay in the house. Don't let me in. I'll"—here, his voice uncharacteristically broke—"I'll protect you. No matter what. I can't let—"

With horrible timing, a dirty red Chevy Tahoe sped into the driveway and lousy parking soon followed. The front tires were in the grassy front lawn, for that was how abysmal it was. A hulking figure exited the vehicle, slamming the door in barely suppressed rage.

None too gently, Josh pushed Bianca further back and sharply hissed, "In!"

She couldn't very well fight him off. Once his mind was made up on something, it was pointless to try talking him out of it. And even though she made to burst through the front door, he slammed it shut.

The nerve of him! Did he honestly think that she in turn wouldn't care whether he got hurt or not? Bianca cursed him out under her breath.

She clenched her fists at her sides, muttering, "Dammit, Josh. Did you think I wouldn't care? You could get hurt."

Though somewhat sulking over this, she crept over to the living room window and opened it just a crack. Not only could she see what was going on but she would be able to hear any conversation that would arise. She refused to sit there without knowing what was going on. Oh, if Josh was stubborn, she was times ten.

Nate Ponser wasn't exactly an overly attractive guy; a bit hard-edged in the face in her opinion. Everything about this kid's face was cruel edges, possibly summing up a mean-spirited person. He had very short pale blond hair, cold blue eyes, and the swastika tattooed on his left arm.

"Nice kid," she scoffed to herself, realizing that he looked every bit the juvenile delinquent. He could have served juvie time once for all she knew.

"The hell's wrong with you?!" Nate proceeded to scream in Josh's masked face. "You got something against me, asswipe?!"

"Nate, Nate, Nate." Putting up a great show of nonchalance, Josh crossed his arms and shook his head. "It's not just you. Don't flatter yourself. You act like you're such a hot shot, when all the football players won't even look at you. No, Nate, I have it against your kind at Woodsboro."

"My kind? Think you're better than m—!"

"I don't think. I _know_." Bianca could sense the mysterious smirk in his voice. "I'm above those who have to hurt and intimidate other people. When I'm pissed off at someone…Well, I kill them. Easy enough. I don't do it the slow way by making kids feel like scum and become the biggest bully on the playground. I kick sand in their face…quick and easy."

She had to be awed by what she eavesdropped on. In all honesty, Nate outdid Josh in stature and very much so in bulk. But, Josh could put this thick-headed stoner to shame with his cunning wit and smarts. Bianca had already found him sexy, but now, she was in total infatuation with his mind.

However, she nearly winced when she heard his big concluding statements. "Basically, Ponser, you're a—hm, how should I put this delicately—fucking moron who just doesn't know when to stop pushing someone's buttons. And by someone, I mean someone with a knife."

Through the glass, after pressing her nose up against it, she could see Ponser promptly throw a punch that Josh briskly ducked to avoid. Upon discovering he'd only hit air, Ponser released a frustrated scream.

"Well, lucky for you, I got a present in the backseat!" he shouted as though tossing out a challenge before heading over to his Tahoe.

So, he was throwing down the gauntlet, preparing for battle. Without meaning to, Bianca held her breath in anticipation.

_Not a gun, not a gun, please not a gun…,_ she thought desperately.

"Take your time, Nate. Knowing how much of an ignorant dumbass you are, you probably forgot to wrap it up for me first," Josh called out, taunting condescendingly. "Problem is, my birthday was almost two months ago, sorry."

After rummaging through the aforementioned backseat, Ponser finally found what he was looking for. As soon as he shut the door and presented the item under the moonlight, Bianca felt her breath hitch in her throat. Very briefly, she choked on air, shocked as she was.

For, gleaming in that light was a silver baseball bat.

Still, Josh sounded relatively unfazed. "Aw, how thoughtful. You don't know how much getting a bat means to me. See, my old man wasn't there for me. Neither was my old lady for that matter. He knocked her up when they were eighteen, and hey, guess what? Pops wanted her to get an abortion. But, no, Mommy wouldn't allow it. No, she gave me up for adoption, and I rode the foster home train from that day on.

"So, see…I never got to play baseball with him. Or have dear ole Mom whip me up cookies and lemonade. And that really _is _a nice bat. Mommy and Daddy can kindly go _fuck themselves_, speaking of which."

"Oh God…," Bianca whispered in disbelief, speculating as to the validity of that story. Somehow, her gut told her that every word of it was true.

Josh may have related it to Ponser in a light, disarming manner, but it was in a completely demented way. And his voice had darkened considerably with what he said his biological parents should do to themselves. It was unbelievable how he unveiled his past all because of his seeing a baseball bat meant for him.

That had to have made Toby then, not a biological, but a foster brother. Bianca groaned when she felt the salty tears swimming in her eyes. What Josh must have gone through to make him that cynical, that joyless…

No, young kid deserved that, believing his own parents didn't want him. And in Josh's case, they really didn't.

"All right then. Play baseball with me, Nate! Swing, batta batta, swing, come on. Hit it right out of the—shit!"

Managing to thoroughly distract himself with his nearly maddening jeers, Josh failed to notice the bat striking him in the face until too late. Bewildered, he staggered backwards, a gloved hand to his mask. But, this only lasted a few seconds before he took out his knife and brandished it at Ponser.

"Oh, you are dead, my friend. I was willing to give you an out, but you just blew it for yourself."

Bianca quickly shut the window, heading toward the kitchen to get a butcher knife. This was uncannily familiar, only this time, she would use the knife to assist Josh if she had to.

Not if…She would.

Sneaking toward the front door, sharp knife in hand, she pressed herself against the door to overhear the struggle between the two boys.

"Take that, bastard!" Ponser (who seemed to only talk in exclamation points and curse words) sounded like he took another swing. Bianca hoped that Josh was able to dodge the blow.

Moments later, she heard a pained yelp and Josh's muffled voice saying darkly, "Out of all things to use against a knife, you pick a baseball bat. You really are as dumb as you look, Nate. And you're going to die for your thoughtlessness."

Despite his scathing, cutting words that were difficult to counter, they seemed to rile Ponser even worse. Next thing Bianca heard was successive hits that seemed to hit their target. She could imagine that in spite of Josh's agility, the size and muscle of Ponser was just proving to be too much for him.

That had to be the last straw. Gritting her teeth, she threw the door open.

Ponser had a sick smile on his face, ignoring the stab wound on his left arm, right near his tasteless tattoo. Thumping the bat against his leg, he looked relatively proud of himself. That was because he towered over Josh, bent double in physical agony, his knife in a loose grasp.

All this Bianca took in within thirty seconds during which she saw nothing but deep, vivid _blood _red. Anger ended up overtaking her.

"Get away from him, you son of a bitch!" she screamed at Ponser, striding toward him with knife firmly in hand. Mainly, it was to be used to scare the guy off. She couldn't understand killing, no matter how much this creep deserved it.

He smirked disgustedly at her. "Hey, you his girlfriend or something? This ought to be fun."

She charged in a valiant effort to fight him and keep him at bay from clearly wounded Josh. However, in retaliation, Ponser aggressively shoved her down so that her face met wood. The knife promptly fell from her grip.

"B!" Josh cried out hoarsely, standing up to face this bully. "Messing with me is one thing. But, when you mess with her…You pay big time."

It all seemed to reach a final resolution in less than two minutes. Putting up quite a front of being strong and undeterred by his sustained injuries, Josh roughly tackled Ponser to the floor. Soon, he punched him in rapid succession—face, chest, arms…Everywhere he could possibly punch him, he did.

Unfortunately, Ponser had one more dirty trick up his sleeve, most certainly not making this a fair fight. Retrieving his baseball bat from where it lay idle on the floor, he hit Josh upside the head. Josh promptly crumpled and collapsed, out cold from the blow.

Ponser rolled his eyes. "Too easy. I'm out of here."

Bianca gasped, upset by this and how the thug could carelessly walk away from this so suddenly. Unless he assumed he'd killed Josh…

She thanked God when Ponser revved up his Tahoe and drove away, leaving only her and Josh. Wincing in pain, she sat up from where she'd lain on the porch floor, too numb to exactly get up right away.

When she checked her face for injuries, she discovered that she had a slightly bleeding lip but was otherwise OK. She then crawled over to Josh, who was still immobilized by what he'd suffered to his head, to see if he was all right.

If he was dead…She stubbornly dismissed that morbid thought from her mind as soon as it had come.

Carefully removing the mask from his face, she noticed that he had a bright red ring around his right eye. Purple bruising was already at the edges. It would be a gruesome shiner later on, she knew that for sure.

Bianca shook him. "Josh…Josh…Wake up. Wake up, Josh! Please."

Very gradually, he blinked his captivating eyes open and instantly touched her bloody lips out of concern. "B…Are you OK?"

"Yeah." Tears pricked at her eyes, and she was skeptical that he actually worried about her safety above his own. "What about you?"

"Fine, I guess. I feel banged up like…like I was the baseball. So…Wait, actually, I feel like shit."

She laughed out of nerves but also genuine amusement. "I bet. Um…Oh God, what happened to your shoulder?"

For, there was a bit of torn cloth on his robe that exposed an ugly wound on his shoulder. A stab wound from the looks of it.

"Oh, that." Josh winced guiltily. "Ponser had my knife at one point. Got me pretty good, the thug. I'm OK, though, not dead. Take me in."

"Not a problem. I'm…I'm just glad you're OK."

He smiled gently at her, the taut lines of his face relaxing as he did so. Carefully, so as not to hurt him more severely, Bianca dragged him across the threshold and shut the door. It was a good thing her house was five minutes from town, out by itself with no neighbors. Otherwise, people would have talked about the masked teenager wielding his trusty knife at a violent thug like Ponser. Gossip would have spread like wildfire.

As soon as the door was closed and he was safely inside, Josh craned his neck up toward her and asked, "How much of it did you hear?"

"How did you know that I—?"

"I saw the open window out of the corner of my eye. I wasn't going to draw attention to it, obviously."

Bianca briefly pondered over how deep the answer would cut him if she told the truth. Nibbling on her bottom lip, she recalled her injury and wrinkled her nose out of revulsion. She'd accidentally tasted her own blood. She went to get a Kleenex and then sat back down at his side.

He raised an eyebrow. "Well? How much?"

She sighed heavily. "All of it."

Settling his head back down, he closed his eyes and groaned. "I didn't want you to know. Not in the way I'd said it to Nate Ponser. And not so soon either. It would have taken some time, but I would have told you eventually."

Bianca put her hand on Josh's uninjured shoulder. "It's OK, Josh. I'm not mad. You didn't have to tell me about them."

Despite her soft, comforting words, he shuddered involuntarily. "It's part of my history. I'd found all that out from an aunt. Dad wanting me to be an abortion and all that. Not even Mom wanted me all that much. And my first foster family…They were OK. But, they liked Toby, their natural son, a hell of a lot more than me. I lied to you about him being in the system. He was just…kind of an asshole. And technically, I can never really call any two people Mom and Dad. Honestly. I've been ignored or oppressed my whole life…"

His tone was sorrowful, almost self-loathing, as a tear trickled down his cheek. The sight of him so vulnerable and deflated alarmed Bianca, who had become accustomed to his usual devil-may-care attitude.

Languidly, Josh turned his head over toward her, whispering, "I'm broken, B. Flawed. I don't even know if I could be good enough for you."

"Don't say that." She pressed her lips to his forehead. "You are. Don't be so down on yourself, Josh."

Awkwardly yet tenderly, she gave him a hug that wouldn't cause him too much physical pain. With a small, lopsided smile, he hugged her back, settling his chin on the top of her head.

"It takes a lot of insanity to be with me," he murmured, chuckling softly.

"Come on." Bianca held out her hand to help him up. "I have to play nurse for you again."

"Joy," was his sarcastic response, but he nonetheless complied.

It took longer than it normally would have to mount the stairs due to Josh being in such a weakened state. In fact, she had to have him lean on her shoulder, though luckily, he didn't contribute all his weight.

Once they got all the way up, her leading him toward her room to wait, he finally broke the silence with, "You know, when Ponser pushed you down…I've never been so angry in my entire life."

He then added with a wink, "And that's saying something."

"Well, it shows you care." Bianca smiled warmly at him as he slowly adjusted his weight on her bed, grimacing with his bruises. "Any guy who willingly shoves girls physically or abuses them in any way…They're pretty low in my book. I'll be right back with the medical stuff."

In reality, her claim that she urgently needed to retrieve the first-aid kit was vaguely a cop-out. Her face burned as she walked across the hallway to the bathroom. The idea of Josh Ellison, her boyfriend with dark hair and bright eyes, sitting on her bed…It was tempting and so very alluring. He probably didn't realize the impropriety this carried, him being a boy in her bedroom. Mom would, without question, be dead set against this occurrence happening. Indeed, if she found Josh there, she would chase him out.

_Just get the damn kit and get this nursing over with, _her mind sternly commanded of her.

So, Bianca reached into the medicine cabinet, got the kit out, and retreated back to her room.

Still on her bed, Josh sat there calmly and somewhat stiffly. Actually, once she considered it, he didn't look altogether comfortable.

"What's up?" she asked helplessly in an attempt to lighten the mood. "You're not exactly making yourself at home."

"Um…" He just barely blushed. "It just feels weird…me being in your room."

A stream of nervous giggles escaped her. "Yeah. Uh-huh, I see what you mean."

This was already getting too awkward, and she hadn't reached the most painfully awkward moment yet. In the meantime, maybe she could pursue small talk. She'd learned well to be adept at it with him.

"Feeling any better?"

He nodded, though he unconsciously let his fingers pad over the bruise around his eye. "I will be. I mean, I kind of am now but…Ponser did a number on me."

Bianca felt herself soften out of sympathy for him. Obviously, being hit all over your body by a metallic baseball bat would not be a walk in the park. Putting herself in his shoes, she could feel every ache in his body. Every bruise, every pulled muscle…Not to even mention the wound on his shoulder that she would have to inspect.

Inspect…Meaning…

As bold as she normally was, the get-down-to-business type, she couldn't help but gulp. "I gotta tend to you now…Uh…Take off your shirt."

Once those words were out of her mouth, her hands promptly started shaking. Her inner shy girl (teased for her red hair, called "ginger" constantly) trembled at the idea of seeing him bare-chested. Her experience with guys was limited, never close and never intimate. In all honesty, she was scared senseless at this. Her heart put on a great burst of speed.

However, Josh automatically obliged without asking why or even raising an eyebrow in doubt. He must have been aware that this was the only way for him to be treated. His robe went first, and he pulled it up over his head, tossing it aside rather carelessly. Bianca noted that he wore a simple white T-shirt. She found she liked him in white as opposed to black. Then, before she could internally prepare herself, that white shirt went the same way.

Instead of the build of his chest, she sensed her eyes hone in on blue and purple bruises that were here and there on his body. But, they were ugly, in stark contrast to his lightly tanned skin.

Why wasn't she able to stop this sooner? Forget mercy on her part, she should have plunged that butcher knife into Ponser's heart!

Frustratingly, not acting at all like a clinically-minded nurse, Bianca knew that she was crying before the tears finally fell from her eyes. They dripped off her chin after streaking down her face. She sighed shakily.

Josh removed his gloves, wiping her tears away. "I'm OK, B. Don't worry so much. They're really not that bad."

"I know but…" Though she did resist, Bianca sniffed loudly. "I could have stopped Ponser sooner. I should have just stabbed him when I had the chance. That way, you wouldn't have gotten this banged up."

"Shhh…" He leaned toward her closely and kissed her forehead. "What's done is done. No point in thinking about what you didn't do. Besides, I did this to myself when I egged him on. Not your fault."

Of course, he was right. Her main issue was that she hated seeing him in so much pain. It was like she suffered from that same amount of aches and bruises. She genuinely cared immensely for him.

"Well." She rolled up the sleeves of her unbuttoned, light blue pinstriped button-down shirt, ready to tackle this. "I'll doctor you up. Let's get this over with. Hm…OK, I gotta take care of that shoulder wound first. So…This is going to sting but stay strong."

Bianca dribbled some rubbing alcohol on a cotton ball to sanitize his somewhat deep wound. She could only be relieved that it hadn't been life-threatening. If anything, this would be the most difficult injury to deal with. He would be easy to fix up.

"Get ready…"

"Oh, come on, B, how bad can it"—as soon as the rubbing alcohol was applied to his wound, Josh let out a string of curses—"OK. Yeah, fairly bad. I shouldn't have let him get so damn close."

Disposing of the cotton ball and then taking out some medical tape, Bianca sat back on her haunches. "That has nothing to do with it. Not at all"—here, she smirked complacently—"You're just being a total wimp. It probably didn't hurt that much."

Though she teased, this warranted an annoyed scowl out of him. "You wouldn't know."

"Do you or don't you want that ugly thing wrapped up?" she asked, a frown appearing on her lips as well as a crease in her forehead that Josh secretly adored. "You're being kind of ungrateful right now."

He rolled his eyes, though he smiled now. "Hm…Way to make me feel like an idiot and put me in my place. You're really good at that when I need it. Yeah, wrap it up. I won't try to stop you."

And so, without putting up much more of a fight, he lifted his right arm in surrender. Cautiously, so as not to hurt him, she wrapped a torn piece of tape around the affected area. Though she did this placidly on the surface, bile threatened at the back of her throat. There was no way she could do this for a living.

"And here's some…um"—Bianca rummaged through the rest of the kit, soon finding a tube of salve—"Cream stuff that'll make those bruises look less…"

"Disgusting?" he prompted with a vague eye roll.

"Severe."

He laughed somewhat cynically. "You always put a polite spin on things, B. Sugarcoat them. Make them seem less than what they really are. These bruises are seriously nothing. Severe? Bullshit! Ole Joe and Helen…They beat me way fucking worse than this. They'd get creative, too. I distinctly recall them using a waffle iron one time and that—"

"Jesus!" Bianca exclaimed, shaking her head as she opened up the tube.

With half a shrug, Josh scoffed audibly in response to what was a disbelieving look of shock on her face. So? Why would she care that he'd had to put up with the bull from his abusive last foster family? She didn't know what it was like to have parents who remained apathetic to her. To have them notice her only when they struck her or shouted obscenities at her. And to have them encourage her upon moving out of the house while insisting that she stay out.

Don't come again. Better off without you. Good riddance.

"What? It was an everyday occurrence. I don't need your sympathy," he told her off.

Her pretty green eyes narrowed angrily. "Then you don't want the cream?"

"That's not what I meant," he replied stiffly, though the tell-tale pink swept across his cheeks.

She nodded, squirting some cream onto her fingertips nonetheless. "Then shut up and let me treat you before I regret it."

Sure, she made a grand bravado of maintaining a poker face and being quite stern with him, yet her fingers trembled once they got near his chest. It was then, at that moment, when she noticed his physique.

He wasn't an Adonis by any means, but he looked to be quite in shape. There was no doubt that he worked out. As someone who had physically fought against him, she could tell there was fine-tuned prowess and strength. Every muscle trained to take the opponent down. Being knocked down several pegs by bullies and that horrid foster family, he'd turned himself into a disciplined warrior.

A real tough fighter.

Not only did Bianca's fingers shake, her entire right hand did. So nervous was she that her hand froze in mid-air, only quivering.

Josh gazed up at her with a bemused smile on his face, puzzled that she, that sassy girl, would falter. Seeing that caused her to turn her head away in embarrassment, cursing softly under her breath.

"What's the matter?" Josh teased, his voice lower and quieter. "Never seen a shirtless guy before?"

"No, just never had to touch one," she muttered resentfully, despising his rather lame joke.

Without much further ado, he pulled her hand to his chest, right where his heart was. "Well, now you are. How does it feel?"

At this point, Josh's voice had turned into a husky, sensual purr. Feeling like the one who had to keep it real, Bianca rolled her eyes at him.

"I'm supposed to be doctoring you, Josh. Don't turn this into something perverted."

And she fell silent again, lips firmly pursed in a thin line. She would be all business now or so help her. Cool and detached, she applied the relieving salve on Josh's chest. But, the more she did it, the more she ogled at him in a way she hadn't before. More slowly, her fingers put on the salve, rubbing circles in a pattern on his skin. And then, inevitably, it no longer involved trying to heal him, not really. It involved curious explanation.

Not exactly a ridiculously large six-pack that he had but firm, toned abs. No wonder his victims rarely ever escaped his clutches. Once he would wear them out, it would be no trouble at all grabbing a hold of them, especially with his muscles.

She traced the lines of his abs, whispering, "Oh my God…you're so beautiful."

Leaning toward her, he stared at her through long, dark bangs. "This isn't about fixing me up any more."

He outright stated this as if he knew all along that it would come down to adolescent hormones and just a little bit of something else.

There had to be.

Bianca had treated all the bruises with the salve as best she could. Now, she placed the first-aid kit aside in favor of bringing her hands up to his face. She wanted to kiss him so much.

Josh smiled, though it was small and barely flitted across his lips. "I gotta say, though, I'm really confused…"

"About what?" she asked tensely, thumbing his cheeks concernedly.

"About why the hell you ended up being with a scumbag like me," he confessed, wrapping his arms around her waist, tightening his hold. "About why you even wanted to. Listen, Bianca, you deserve to be with someone whole, someone with his head screwed on straight. I come in parts. I'm damaged goods."

Bianca shook her head vigorously. "No. Don't call yourself that. I got attracted to you, Josh. There's more to you than just someone who's been hurt. You've overcome that. Besides, you could give up killing."

"Guess so. No use in it for me any more anyway. But, Bianca, you're smart, beautiful, and everything a guy could want. A better guy. I—"

Sick of hearing the drab pity party he was throwing for himself, she kissed him with shockingly raw tenderness. Her emotions were laid out before him, the truth of the depth of her feelings for him. She allowed her hands to explore the toned expanse of his chest as she leaned her head against his shoulder. She heard a whisper of a sigh from him. He kicked off his boots before settling her down on the bed, following suit. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her neck and along her jawline. Simply enough, she felt worshipped by him.

Bianca sighed out of pleasure from Josh's hands roaming her body, his lips and tongue taking control of hers. Oddly enough, she found she didn't mind playing the passive role. He at least was gentle with her in his seductive ways. She sensed him removing the button-down shirt from her, revealing her in a deep blue tank top. That caught her keenest attention, making her shoot up in a sitting position. Self-consciously, she wrapped her arms around herself, unsure about this. Even with Josh, she didn't want to lose her virginity, not yet.

"What's wrong?"

Bianca jumped slightly, startled by the worry and veiled empathy that question conveyed. She turned her head toward him, the one boy who treated her like she should have been all along. So, why the hell was she so scared?

She studied him in that pool of moonlight that the window on the west side filtered in. A familiar lurch in her stomach told her just how captivating she thought he was. Those gorgeous blue eyes gazed at her as though they had X-ray vision to see into her soul and everything in it. His unkempt, shaggy hair hung about his face like always.

And that face itself, every feature well-defined, especially (in her humble opinion) his lips. Lips that formed words she ached to hear, words that usually comforted her. How many times had she dreamed about those lips?

"B," he murmured, his hand reaching out toward her shoulder. "Am I doing something wrong?"

"N-No!" she stuttered out, her cheeks increasingly warming. "It's not you at all. It's just…I'm not sure if…I'm, um…_ready _for this yet. This…This sex thing."

"Oh." Somehow, Josh's face relaxed in relief. "Oh, OK. Good. I mean, not good, because I know this has something to do with that Garret son of a bitch."

Bianca shook her head, smiling a little now. "Not even him. I've just never been comfortable with the idea of teen sex. Everyone does it but—"

"And they're sick fucks for doing so, screwing like rabbits," he bluntly pointed out.

Surprised by his brutal opinion on roughly 75% of Lincoln High students, she laughed. "I wouldn't say they're sick. It's only they're hormonal and have nothing better to do."

Lazily, he dragged her down back by him. "Making out's as far as I go for now. I mean"—here, he lowered his entrancing voice to a whisper—"I'm all for carnal lust. I'm a guy, that's the way it works. But…I don't want you on that _Teen Mom_ freak-show circus train either."

Bianca was charmed by how drastically different Josh's outlook on the world was, how he perceived it in his cynical way. She could appreciate people who thought for themselves and daringly went against the status quo. Who better to do that than the latest Ghostface?

She also could hardly believe that he was willing to wait for sex with her, unlike most other boys at school. Horny and persistent, they always managed to obtain what they were after. Even if it was through less than honorable means. The half-smile on her face vanished when she cringed noticeably.

Josh saw this and placed his head against her stomach, his hands tracing the shape of her curves, her hips. "I mean it. I'm not going to pressure you into doing something you're not comfortable with. Most guys my age—well, our age—are so horny these days, it's disgusting. They're like dogs humping against all the fire hydrants. Not to say that I'm like a monk because I think you're heartbreakingly sexy"—he smirked—"Just…You're someone special enough to hold out for. I can be patient."

Stretching out her back, Bianca arched against his touch, loving the feel of those long-fingered hands on her. They were perfect along with his eyes, his nose, his lips…

"Josh," she murmured, running her fingers through his unkempt dark hair. "I can't believe you're for real sometimes. You're not like other guys."

An easygoing, light-hearted grin dashed across his lips. "Good. Why would I want to be typical?"

"Exactly. Even though you're Ghostface, you're really cool and…and you're not someone who tortures your victims. At least you would never try to force me."

As soon as she uttered those words, Josh automatically understood what she meant. He was glad that he would never force himself upon her in a million years, unlike Garret and other lowlifes like him. Proud of himself for it, actually.

With this beautiful redhead (even though it was more like light orange hair) in his arms, they both basked in this peaceful moment together. This was enough. No need to get sordid about it. She was his dream girl, had been as far back as elementary school. And he'd never once forgotten her with her kindness toward him, the gawky kid in the glasses.

A little while later, Josh randomly brought up, "You know…I never told you why I started killing."

Bianca noted the intensity of his pale blue eyes all of a sudden, especially the one with the shiner around it. It seemed to blare at her like a laser.

"That's easy, you got bullied."

"And fed up," he said darkly, his arms protectively drawing closer around her. "Picked on at school and home…Billy Loomis taught me everything I know, like I said. So, at fifteen, I fought back. I was sick of feeling weak."

"Yeah, can't say I blame you," she sympathized.

Silence and then…

"Yeah, well, you know…After I killed my first victim, I threw up."

Bianca had always pondered over Josh's reaction to his first kill, whether he'd delighted in it or not. Past Ghostfaces had apparently relished in victimizing and long, illustrious torture sessions. But, even with each passing taken life, he'd never become that. And now that he flat-out admitted to acting human over killing someone, her guesses were confirmed.

"Really?" She eased her hand up and down his bicep.

He nodded grimly. "Did it for five minutes. The guy was Cody Martin, sixteen. My first high school bully. I stabbed him around twenty times for throwing his lunch tray on me earlier in the day. He thought it was funny…so did the whole student body. I was so pissed off. There was no way I was gonna let him get away with it. So, looked up the guy's address, made a house call (after quizzing him over the phone, 'course) and yeah. He was dead in ten minutes."

Cody Martin had been quite the track star, she remembered. Also, some other guys from her school thought it would be funny to egg his house. Other than that, she'd known next to nothing about him.

Josh then added, "Billy asked me if I threw up when I finally got around to telling him I'd killed my first victim. I lied and said no. But, he knew I lied and went ahead and laughed at me. Said when he killed that girl back in '96 that he'd laughed about it. Oh, and he told me something like 'Bitch deserved to die for being so stupid'"—he quivered just slightly, so imperceptibly that Bianca almost doubted it happened—"Man, he was a bad influence. So, I killed some more…to be tougher and…A lot of kids were pissing me off. Billy said the more I killed, the less I'd feel anything."

She realized she really could empathize with him, seeing herself in his position. A lost and misguided teenager, brutally beaten by his heartless foster parents, with no one to turn to, not even her at that point. Looking back, she wished she could have convinced Mom to move them to Woodsboro, just so she could stick with him. To put her arms around him whether he was frightened or angry out of his mind.

"What happened to Billy Loomis anyway?" she asked coolly, looking down upon that particular man more and more.

"He's serving a twelve-year sentence for arson." Josh rolled his eyes, as if to signify he could care less what became of his former mentor. "Tried burning down the house where Sidney Prescott used to live. See, she'd gotten married two days before, and he found out about it. Went completely fucking ballistic for some weird reason. He said he could care less about her, just wanted her dead. Then, he goes and does something like that."

"Love twists and shrivels people up sometimes." Bianca shrugged.

Josh snorted. "No kidding. Billy's version of love certainly did. But…it's different with me, B."

She certainly hoped so. In fact, she had enough faith in him that she knew this to be true. And with two going on three years of killing on his non-existent resume, seven deaths were very few indeed.

"I know it is," she responded, curling up as intimately close as possible to him, causing him to let slip a tender smile.

He didn't deserve her or, really, shouldn't, according to society. He was a marked man, dangerous with a knife and terribly rude and scathing in phone conversations. And yet, Bianca made him want to change somehow, realizing that murdering wasn't a run-of-the-mill smoking habit. It could very well get him locked up.

Besides, he was no Billy Loomis, never was and never would be. He'd found being creative with blood and/or internal organs distasteful. He'd usually liked to get the dirty jobs over with.

Now that he was finally away from his home of pain, he felt the desire for bullies' blood diminish little by little. Someday, he would quit calling and knifing altogether.

Maybe someday was today.

"Bianca," Josh whispered, winding one orange strand of hair around his finger, "I think I could be in love with you."

Sitting up, shifting his position on the bed, he placed her head on his lap just so he could see her reaction. Her light green eyes clouded over in barely hidden skepticism before glowing hopefully. Could she return his feelings?

Finally, after seeming to contemplate further, she smiled softly. "I know I'm in love with you."

His heart leapt into this throat, something that rarely happened to him. After all, with the twists and turns in his life, nothing shocked him or even moved him for the most part. Until she came into his life a second time at that Wal-Mart. Even when she had angered him with her patronizing comment, he still managed to be attracted to her. Weird, but that was how twisted he was.

Everything about her excited him and set his heart racing…like now.

He leaned over her, their faces inches apart. "Guess you'll have to get used to me then. Because that's all I wanted to hear, B, to stick around. Not like I'd break up but…This is really serious now, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Bianca nearly choked on a lump in her throat, her eyes starting to well up. "I was sure of that when I saw you beaten-up and unconscious tonight. I got scared. I was worried you'd die."

Embarrassed over the misty wetness in her eyes tonight, she wiped her eyes furiously, adding, "I'm PMSing by the way. I don't cry this damn much, you know."

One strong arm of his was placed under her, and he half-held her. "I know. You're a strong girl, B. You're a fighter. You had the balls to take me on when no one else did. They just opened up and screamed. You did sound very defensive and like you'd been hurt, but that makes you like me. There's a fire in you that I…It drives me insane, and I love it. I love you."

His lips caught hers gently as he ran his hands through her hair again. All he cared about was her, this girl who was making him change his mind about playing around with his knife. Who was Ghostface? He could give that identity up and be Josh Ellison for the rest of his life.

Bianca felt every part of her body tingle with his superb kissing skills that only got better each time they were utilized. She could stay like this forever. Her eyes closed eventually but only because she was tired. It'd been a wild, crazy night with crazy Ponser on his rampage. She wondered if he had any idea who the masked attacker was.

"Josh, you could be caught," she brought up concernedly, though she sleepily shut down little by little.

"Nah, not now," he assured her, holding one of her hands in his, his lean body hovering over hers. "Consider tonight the beginning of Ghostface's retirement. I'm burning the costume and everything."

"You'd do that?"

Josh kissed the corner of her mouth. "Hell, B, I'd do anything for you."

"Josh…," Bianca whispered, extremely weary now, her eyes half-closed.

"Yeah, what is it, B?"

"Stay with me until I fall asleep."

"OK. I didn't feel like moving anyway."

A tired ghost of a chuckle emitted from her as she drifted off to sleep with his arms around her. How'd she get so lucky? She had entirely ruled out a boyfriend until she was thirty at least, yet here he was. Flawed yet so irrevocably perfect.

* * *

Bianca woke up the next morning, a Sunday morning that had virtually nothing going on. Glancing at her clock, she found she slept in til ten o'clock. Wow, more energy than she thought was expended last night. That was what usually happened when a lot of drama went down.

"Josh?" she whispered but discovered him gone. "Damn. He does that a lot."

However, her spirits instantly lifted when she noticed a blue-purple iris from out in the garden and a note. The note was brief, only saying:

_Ghostface is dead. Josh Ellison is back full-force, B._

She smiled, kissed the note, and tucked it under her pillow. Where, incidentally enough, she found another piece of paper just like it.

Luckily, more writing was on this one:

_Bianca May Holland,_

_ I'm thinking our next date should be out to Olive Garden. What do you say? I can be normal, don't worry. From now on, I'll go out of my way to be the best for you._

_Ponser should count himself lucky that I'd let him go. Let's just hope he was too high to recognize my voice._

_As for you-know-what, I still want to do that with you one day. Only you. Nothing's perfect, though. We might still be fighting about other stupid shit, but that's what life is. The fact that you took me, a screwed-up mess, back into your life…That's amazing. You left quite an impression. I'm staying. I'm not going anywhere._

_I love you,_

_ Josh_

He had a way with words at all times, it seemed.

_I'm never letting him go, _Bianca thought satisfactorily and then came downstairs for breakfast.

* * *

**A/N: It'd actually been a while since I'd watched the first Scream movie and then go figure, half the plot of the combined one-shots wouldn't make sense because Billy Loomis was killed off at the end of the movie. Figures. However, I feel like killing off the villain is such an easy way out. He should live...in order to receive worse punishment than death. Him going crazy...Hey, better than him being shot at. I just think that Loomis didn't suffer enough in the movie. And of course, there's more Bianca/Josh love. Not much else to comment on it other than I hope you liked it. :)**


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